Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Woodcock Flights and Shorthair Camping

5 days camping up in the north woods of Wisconsin in mid October. Not the Indian summer Octobers we have had lately but the ones where the dogs watering dishes were sometimes frozen over in the morning and maybe you woke up to snow flurries. We didn’t do it in a hard shell camper like we do now. We did it in a tent. We were waiting for the flights. That glorious event when the woodcock head south and book resting space in the local habitat. When pointer’s eyes glaze over at the overwhelming scent of multiple ‘woodies’ and the shoulders of the bird hunters ache from the days snap shooting at double and triple flushes, when the pocket full of shells runs low on a push through big cover, the flights, the flights are a little slice of bird hunting heaven.

Cool nights drinking beer around a campfire, how about that shot? Remember when Otis was curled around that popple in between us pointing a tight holding woodcock, and Clyde staring up at that dead woodie stuck by its bill in the crook of a pecker pole popple. Laughing like hyenas, put another log on the fire and crack open another cold one. Late at night finally asleep in our bags only to wake up with the dogs howling back at a pack of coyotes that may have come a little too close to camp.

Frosty mornings clutching coffee cups, huddled around the fry pan bacon, eggs and taters sharing with the hounds, asking what cover should we start the day with? Let’s go ‘where they ain’t’ (secret spot) we have to beat those guys from Cedarburg there. We do, just pulling in ahead of them, laughing like hyenas again. We limit out in about 2 hours. Now we head to down town Athelstane, talking smart at the Nimrod (best Pizza in the area by the way). In the afternoon we scout some new covers, park at some likely spot just at sunset and wait for 5 o’clock Charlie, see a few woodcock fly into that popple thicket on the other side of the marsh. Maybe we will hit that spot first thing tomorrow, Nah; we got to beat those claim jumpers from Cedarburg one more time.

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